


four in the bed

by driedvoices



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-14
Updated: 2012-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedvoices/pseuds/driedvoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU as of Brotherhood. The modern team arrives at Monteriggioni and try to put themselves back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	four in the bed

There's room enough for all of them in the ruins of the Villa Auditore. But for some reason they all pause as they walk in, clustered together in front of the staircase. 

"Echo," says Desmond stupidly, hears his own voice carried back to him tenfold. Lucy elbows him and he grins at her. 

"Think the stairs are safe?" Rebecca asks, trailing her fingers up the rail. She's got this jittery energy about her, ever since they got into the van, that Desmond hadn't seen in front of the Animus. He jumps up the stairs three at a time, winking down at her. Rebecca compensates by running up the railing and sticking her tongue out at him. 

"When that collapses, I'm not catching you," Shaun says over his shoulder, heading into what used to be the armory. 

"Ouch," says Rebecca, clutching her hands over her heart dramatically. 

"Amen," Lucy says pointedly. "I'm gonna get some rest before we get set up." The _you should, too_ is unspoken but present. Rebecca shrugs at Desmond and drops down, starts down the hall. Lucy, below, drops her bag in front of a doorway and disappears into Mario Auditore's study. 

Desmond stands on the staircase a few moments more, before turning to Maria's room and falling asleep with his head turned to the wall. 

-

"I think that's enough for today," Rebecca ventures, barely audible over the humming of the Animus. 

"Why?" Shaun says bluntly from the corner. "I mean, God forbid we get something accomplished while we're here, but—"

"You're overheating my baby!" she fires back. Desmond smirks lecherously. "And Des, too." 

Lucy snickers. 

"I could probably go a little longer," Desmond says, humbled. 

"I bet you could," Shaun hums. They stare at him. "I've said that out loud, haven't I?"

"Look, Shaun, it is _clearly_ my turn to have awkward sexual tension with Desmond," says Rebecca. "You can share."

"At least I'm not the one who uses the Animus for porn," Shaun replies, glaring.

"Leonardo was a very pretty man," Lucy rationalizes. 

"You're all sexual deviants," Desmond says, standing up and stretching. He hears several bones pop and winces. 

"Maybe you're just too vanilla," Lucy teases, reaching a foot out to kick him. 

"Nothing wrong with that," he shrugs and smiles at her, holds her gaze a little too long. 

-

The view from the rooftop is beautiful; miles of uninhabited land, of total serenity. Lucy lies back with her arms behind her head and stares at the moon, at the fields, at the remnants of the town below. She expected it to feel empty here, full of a ghost's sorrow. She was not wrong. But out here it doesn't feel wrong, just quiet. Which isn't perfect, but it'll do. 

Shaun's staring up at the same sky from the bottom floor, rubbing his eyes drowsily. Rebecca taps away at her laptop, phantomlike in the bluish glow from the monitor, and upstairs Desmond has a conversation with Claudia Auditore that he'll try to forget in the morning. 

-

Every so often they have an unofficial day off, even though they're wasting time and the world is probably ending and none of them have a good shot of living past forty. It's a poor strategy, but at present it feels better to stretch their legs and forget the rest of the world than to sit on their asses 'til they cramp and panic. Desmond always leads the pack, clicking his blade in and out like a nervous tic. Lucy and Rebecca follow close behind, while one engages in some frenetic picture-taking ("For research!") and the other engages in some merciless mocking. Shaun brings up the rear, but takes care not to stray too far. He keeps his hands shoved in his pockets, staring alternately at the ground and at their backs. 

"If you're going to train," Lucy tells Desmond, while he skips around rooftops like some kind of demented squirrel, "then train. Stop trying to show off." 

"Jealous much? I'm just naturally impressive."

"You drool in the Animus," Rebecca informs him. "The allure fades." Lucy offers her a fist bump, while Shaun's face contorts into what might be a grin. 

"Ha," Desmond says dryly. 

"Sorry to break your studly little heart," Lucy tells him sweetly. 

"My studly little heart will soldier on," he calls down to her. "You wanna race?"

"You wanna lose?" she says, quirking an eyebrow. 

"To the gates and back, loser has to make dinner."

"Parameters?"

"Anything goes," Desmond declares boldly. 

"My favorite," Lucy smirks. 

"Care to make a gentlemanly wager?" Rebecca says to Shaun, elbowing him in the ribs. 

"Lucy's vicious. She'll destroy him." 

"I dunno, Des is pretty quick." They watch from the shade of a building as Lucy nearly pushes Desmond off a roof. Rebecca cackles and leans into Shaun's shoulder. She stays there. 

-

Desmond's eyes are about to drift shut when he hears footsteps outside and he tenses, flicks his blade out (he never takes it off anymore). 

"Hey, hey," Lucy says softly, barefoot and pallid. The moonlight streaks over her legs as she crosses the room, curls in next to him under the covers. 

"Um," says Desmond articulately. "What?"

Lucy thinks for a moment. She settles for, "I'm cold," and Desmond seems to find it a sufficient answer, because he wraps an arm around her shoulders and tangles his fingers in her hair. 

-

"Still a gambling man, Mr. Hastings?" Rebecca asks, leaning her forearms on his desk. He spares her a glance before turning back to his work. 

"It depends on the subject." 

"I think Lucy and Desmond are doin' it."

"I think you have too much time on your hands."

"You know, that mild-mannered Englishman thing you've got going on isn't fooling anyone," she tells him, waggling her eyebrows. 

"Good god, when did I ever claim to be mild-mannered?" He gives her his best disinterested look.

"I could always rig up a couple video cameras," she suggests. 

"Or you could make yourself useful and carry that box upstairs," he commands, hoping she didn't catch the small hitch in his breath. 

Rebecca rolls her eyes and fake salutes, grunting melodramatically as she lifts the box. She only makes it halfway when one of the steps cracks and gives out on her, sends her sprawling. Shaun dives and just barely grabs her under the arms, while the box clatters to the floor, its contents jumbled and spread about the room. 

"Shit," she says, breathless, slumping into him. Shaun only nods, a bit dazed, and circles her waist with his arms. They sit there a moment in silence, Rebecca laying pretty much in his lap, before she turns to him and smiles. 

"And you said you wouldn't catch me," she teases. 

"Call it a reflex," he says, and makes an excuse about having to find a book. 

-

Naturally, the villa doesn't have running water, but Rebecca had done her best to fix up a makeshift shower that ran lukewarm about twenty-five percent of the time. Everyone seemed mostly satisfied with it (Lucy had hugged her and called her a genius) but it's probably more likely that nobody had the heart to say anything. 

Whatever the case, Rebecca is pleased with it, at least; exceptionally pleased that she can peel off her clothes and wash off the grime and the dust and bad feelings, even here, even now. She stands in what passes for the bathroom, undressing slowly, when Lucy walks in on her, covered in mud and bleeding slightly. 

"Oh," says Rebecca, not bothering to cover herself, too shocked by the tiredness on Lucy's face. "I can wait. You go ahead."

Lucy's forehead unwrinkles just slightly and she shrugs. "No point in wasting water," she says matter-of-factly, stripping down and stepping under the showerhead. 

"None at all," Rebecca agrees, and joins her, forgets to ask her why she's bloody. 

-

"A sleepover? And I wasn't invited?" Rebecca's voice is loud but not overbearing in the quiet of the room, and Desmond and Lucy both look up at her sleepily. It does come as sort of a shock that they're both clothed, but she decides to think nothing of it and goes to lay beside Desmond when he gestures for her.

"You're not a kicker, are you?" he asks, as she winds an arm around his waist so that her hand can hold Lucy's. "You look like a kicker."

"Only when provoked," she assures him, and she likes that she can feel his laugh echo through her body. 

-

"Still working, Shaun?" Lucy says, walking into the courtyard. "It's getting kind of late." Desmond's right on her heels, peering over Shaun's shoulder without reservation. 

"Sci-fi?" he guesses, watching a tidal wave bombard the monitor. "Never pegged you for the type. But I guess the _existence_ of historical fiction is insulting to you—"

"It's the news," Shaun says in a clipped tone. "Apparently, one-sixteenth of California is now underwater."

"Motherfuck." Desmond's eyes go wide. 

There's a long pause in which Shaun stares uncomfortable at his shoes, Desmond stares uncomfortably at Shaun, and Lucy gapes at the screen. Eventually Lucy spins Shaun's chair away from the computer, perches herself on his lap and hugs him tight. His hands flail about awkwardly for a moment before he relaxes and settles them on her hips, breathes in the smell of her hair. Desmond sits on floor and leans against Shaun's leg, talking about how one time he vacationed in Los Angeles. 

-

They know that the bleeding effect has gotten worse; there's really no getting around it. 

And then one morning Desmond walks up to Shaun, calls him _cara mia_ and kisses him full on the mouth.

That's when they start to worry. 

-

Desmond kind of figured that danger would come with the whole Assassin thing—the kind of danger where his life was dangling by a string and he got to punch faces in, save a couple hundred people and end up looking like a hero. He did not, frankly, expect danger to be staring him in the face from a bowl. 

"You're going to try and cure my probable mental illness with soup?" Desmond asks, staring down at it with his brow furrowed. He is vaguely certain that soup isn't supposed to smell like that. 

"I'm sure that there's some kind of far-fetched field of study that says it's possible to cure anything with affectionate home-cooking," Rebecca tells him, sets a spoon in front of him. "Eat."

"I think it might eat _me_ ," says Desmond glumly. "Does soup normally look lethal?"

"It's the power of love, Des," Shaun snickers. Rebecca smacks him. Desmond is pretty sure he just saw something move in the bottom of the bowl.

"We were not all born to go to culinary school," she says, sticking her tongue out. Lucy takes the spoon out of Desmond's hand and takes a sip of soup. 

"I think it's fine," she shrugs; Rebecca beams. She flicks Desmond on the back of the head for good measure. 

"When you die," Desmond warns her gravely, "don't say I didn't warn you."

Desmond stays in the Animus for a very long time that day. 

-

Lucy wakes up knowing it's still night-time, with a warm kind of exhaustion that makes her want to roll over and sleep forever. But she doesn't, because she cracks her eyes open a peek and sees Shaun in their little pile of limbs, running soothing fingers through Desmond's hair. Stealthily, she nudges Rebecca's shin with her foot. 

"Cold toes," Rebecca says loudly, and yawns as she turns to glare at Lucy. Her eyes fall on Shaun and she pauses, while he holds his hands up nervously and stammers. 

"I was just walking by and he was groaning and twitching and carrying on, and I know you two could sleep through a bloody earthquake—oh, just shut it." Rebecca has to shove her fist in her mouth to stifle her laughter. Shaun looks murderous.

Lucy, however, is far too tired for this, so she just loops her arm through Shaun's and shuts her eyes tightly, hoping they'll take the hint. Eventually and not without a good deal of teasing ("you _do_ have a heart, you stodgy old thing, you."), Rebecca slumps into her usual sprawled-everywhere pose and Shaun relaxes, letting his eyes fall shut. Desmond adjusts between them, still sleeping.

-

Desmond has kind of gotten used to waking up with two warm bodies pressed against him. He still sleeps sporadically, waking up in a sweat every couple of hours, but he can smell Lucy's hair or feel Rebecca's back against his chest and settle down between them, search for rest. It's nice.

However, when he shivers back into consciousness pillowed on a decidedly masculine chest, he's a little confused. 

"You weren't here when I went to sleep," he says, faintly accusing, as Shaun looks down at him. 

"No," Shaun agrees. 

"They weren't naked when I went to sleep, either," Desmond says, eyes widening as he sees Lucy's bare shoulders, Rebecca's fingers clutching at them. He's partially convinced that this is a really lucid dream. 

"That, um," Shaun coughs. "That's pretty new to me, too." Of course, that's when Desmond has the sense to realize that Shaun is hard and laying directly underneath him. 

"Are you two gonna sit there and talk all night?" Rebecca pipes up. What they can see of her face is flushed, lips smirking and swollen. "Because, you know. I can think of a couple better things your mouth could be doing."

Desmond, at least, is not one to turn down an invitation. Shaun agrees; it would be rude to decline, after all. 

-

Things they learn: 

Lucy has a freckle right under her navel that Shaun is particularly enamored with, to the point where Desmond wryly suggests that he name it and earns himself a punch to the gut. 

Rebecca's whole body shakes when she comes; they can feel it through her hands, through her lips, down to the tips of her toes. 

Desmond always, _always_ wants to be the big spoon, even when it's illogical and a little bit impossible. 

Shaun can be a gentleman, after all; he's very good at saying please.

-

They all sleep in that day.


End file.
